Patronus Moments
by Managed Mischief
Summary: For the first time in their lives, Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley are living a relaxing life. They live together in their small cottage with their dream jobs and perfect life. But all that relaxation is gone with a little pregnancy test, and suddenly it seems like they will never get anything done in time for a new arrival. It will all be worth it in the end, though, right?
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the wonderful, magical J.K. Rowling does.**

...

"Ok," Ginny whispered, holding the pregnancy test in her shaking hands. She picked up the wrapper and quickly scanned the instructions on the back.

She had bought it yesterday at ' _Magical Maladies Maternity'_ by herself after Harpies practice. She had planned to take it as soon as she got back to her and Harry's cottage, but she was a coward. The thought that she could be pregnant made her want to vomit, so instead of taking the test, she stuffed it in her sock drawer and tried to pretend it didn't exist.

But it hung over her head like a cloud. She was… late, and she was never late. In addition to that, she was nauseous all the time. She loved food, yet the smell of breakfast in the morning triggered her gag reflex and she was forced to find something to hold on to as she waited for it to pass. Before 'the sickness,' she could easily eat more than Harry did, but now she could hardly think about bacon without feeling her throat constrict. She was sluggish, constantly tired, and sick.

She had told herself that she was imagining it. _Maybe she was getting a stomach bug_ , she thought. But eight days later, she was still late, nauseated, and exhausted. Not good.

Ginny refused to tell anybody, and Harry was no exception. Sometimes, as she pushed food around her plate, he would cast glances her way, his eyes filled with worry. One morning, he asked her if she okay to go to practice. Two nights ago, he asked her to go to bed since he thought she wasn't getting enough sleep.

Harry was, after all, one of the primary reasons she was taking a pregnancy test. Not for herself, but so she could figure it out before Harry did. Fleur (Bill's wife) and Audrey (Percy's wife) had already had children, and Audrey (George's wife) was pregnant with their first child, so Harry knew the symptoms of pregnancy. It was only a matter of time before he figured out something was up. Then he may make the mistake of telling her mother, which could only end in disaster.

' _Ginny why didn't you tell me?! My own daughter may be *gasp* pregnant, and she didn't tell me first?! Oh, Ginny!'_ Ginny's stomach churned at the thought of that whole ordeal.

So now it was 2:32 in the morning, and she sat on the cold edge of the bathtub, trying to swallow her nerves. According to the instructions on the back of the test, it took three minutes. Three more minutes before the rest of her life was decided.

She had woken up twenty minutes ago and had to rush to the bathroom to vomit. Luckily, Harry was an extremely deep sleeper, so as she silently darted out of bed, the only thing Harry had done was mumble in his sleep.

She trusted Harry. She loved him with her whole heart, and she was positive that he felt the same. She knew all of his secrets and deepest fears, and him all of hers. But, for a reason not even Ginny could understand, she couldn't tell him.

They weren't even married, for Merlin's sake. They were engaged, but they had been pushing back the wedding for nearly a year and a half. It's not like they weren't happy – no, they were overjoyed with their current lifestyle. But neither Harry of Ginny wanted to pick out flowers, cake, dresses, locations, guests, or all the other nonsense that involved planning a wedding.

Besides, he was the _chosen one_ , the _boy that lived_ , _the_ _savior of the wizarding world!_ Their wedding would be the biggest news in the entire wizarding world for _weeks_. Even their engagement made the front page of the Daily Prophet; she could only imagine what chaos would ensue when they got married.

And if she was _pregnant_? The news of both a wedding and a baby would probably wreak havoc. She could imagine all the fangirling, blood-sucking journalists fainting in their chairs, and suddenly the entire wizarding world would be sitting on the edge of their seats, anxiously waiting for the "wedding of the century."

And Ginny would be sitting at home, trying to plan the wedding while also trying to prepare for the baby and _motherhood._

Just thinking about it made her head spin.

 _And her career._

Ginny didn't even begin to think about her career! She was a professional quidditch player, for heaven's sake. She ate, drank, and slept quidditch. She couldn't play while she was pregnant. She would have to take a break – not only hurting the team, but also hurting her. Months without practice would make a tremendous difference, and she would not only have to take off time for the pregnancy, but also time to take care of the baby for a couple of months afterward.

It's not like she wouldn't love the baby. _Of course_ she would love the baby – probably more than anything in the world. But being a mother… she wasn't ready for something like that right now.

Glancing back up at the clock, she felt her heart begin to pound in her chest. 2:35. It was done. The test was complete.

She stared at herself in the mirror, willing herself to look down at the test in her hands. But no matter how hard she tried she couldn't do it. She was Ginny Weasley – official badass, fiancée of the chosen one, professional quidditch seeker – yet she couldn't look at a stupid test.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes.

"On the count of three," she whispered to herself. "One…" She felt like she was going to throw up again. "Two…" She was seriously either going throw up or pass out. Actually, Ginny wouldn't mind passing out. Not only would it stall time, but it would also help her catch her breath – something that seemed physically impossible to do at the moment.

"Three."

With a second of hesitation, she glanced down at the test. She gripped the counter, trying to stop the world from spinning as she blinked hard.

"Oh," she whispered. "Oh _god_."

 _Pregnant._ The little screen spelled it out for her. She was pregnant. Great.

She stood up and stumbled to the toilet where she gripped the rim of the bowl and heaved, but nothing came out. Then she fell back onto the ground, sitting on the cold tile of the bathroom floor.

That's when she heard the gentle knock on the door.

"Are you in there, Ginny?" Harry called softly.

Ginny didn't answer. Instead, she stared blankly at the test in her hand, almost as if she didn't hear him. _She was going to be a mother_.

"Ginny?" said Harry, a bit louder this time. "Is everything alright?"

"Um," she whispered, almost to herself. "Yeah… yeah, I'm fine," she said louder, though her voice sounded distant. She stood up and threw away the pregnancy test.

"Are you sure… you sound…"

"I said I'm fine," Ginny replied quickly.

"I heard you throw up, though. Are you getting sick?" he asked. "Should I make an appointment to go to St. Mungo's?"

"I – um, no, I will be fine. It's – I think it's just a stomach bug. Nothing big," she stammered. She didn't know why she was lying – she just couldn't tell him.

She was pregnant.

...

 **This is my first story, so any feedback would be great. I plan to update with a new chapter very soon! Thanks x**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Okay, have a good day, honey," Harry said, leaning down to kiss Ginny on the cheek. She smiled up at him, but it was a frail smile, one that was given only to make him leave her alone.

"You too," she replied. She took another sip of her tea, closing her eyes as it flowed down her throat. "Don't forget your badge – it's on the counter next to the kettle," she added without even looking up. He chuckled under his breath and grabbed the almost-forgotten badge.

"What would I do without you?"

"I don't even think Professor Trelawney could predict that," she said with a quiet laugh. Though her sleep deprived eyes were closed, he beamed at her.

"Love you," he said as he threw his suit jacket on over his shoulders.

"Love you, too." Then with a small pop, Harry apparated from the kitchen. But he had no intention of going to work, well, not right away, at least. He had a different place in mind.

Despite all his years of apparating, there were still times he wouldn't quite stick the landing, and he would stumble a couple of steps. This was true for when he landed in Hermione's flat, except he not only stumbled, he nearly took out her favorite painting on the wall. He regained his balance, his glasses bent and his hair no longer neatly combed. Hermione let out a startled gasp and dropped the sugar spoon into her cup of tea.

"Harry!" Hermione hissed, the tea sloshing onto the counter. "If you're going to apparate into my apartment uninvited, the least you can do is stick the landing."

"Sorry," he answered, running his hand through his hair. "I – I… well, I'm worried about Ginny, and I decided that I should come talk to—" Harry stopped as a towel-wrapped Ron walked out of the hallway and into the brightly lit kitchen. At this, a grin broke out on Harry's face as he looked at Ron then back at Hermione, whose cheeks were turning a light shade of pink.

"Ooh," he said playfully. "Ron spent the night last night… on a Monday night? Hermione, you allowed that? I mean you have to work so long today… You will have needed a full night of sleep—"

"Oh, shut up," Hermione said, rolling her eyes so far Harry swore at one point it was just the white of her eyes. Despite her nonchalant-ness on the situation, her cheeks were glowing a much darker shade of pink than they normally were. Ron just cracked a crooked smile as he walked to the tea pot on the stove.

"So what were you saying Harry?" Hermione asked. Holding her half-spilled tea, she walked around the kitchen island and sat in one of the kitchen stools. Harry sat in the adjacent, mismatched stool. Everything in Hermione's flat was mismatched, but in not in a messy way. It was cute and homey.

"I – I think there's something wrong with Ginny," he explained. "She's sick."

"Like how sick?" Hermione asked, immediately jumping into her 'I-need-all-the-details' mode. "And for how long?"

"For, like, awhile… maybe a week and a half," Harry answered quickly. "She doesn't even know I'm here; she thinks I'm at work. I had to lie to her because she is refusing to seek any sort of help."

"Hey Hermione, where is—?"

"Your favorite mug is in the cupboard above the stove," Hermione answered without even having to look at him. Harry couldn't help but crack a small smile. Despite not even being engaged, Ron and Hermione were more like a married couple than him and Ginny. "Anyway," she continued, "what are her symptoms?"

"Well last night she threw up, but told me she was fine and pretended like it didn't happen. She's been so tired, too. Everything I do is… wrong. I can't help her without her snapping. She is literally pretending like she is perfectly fine and everything is normal. And, trust me, it's not." Ron chuckled into his cup of tea upon hearing this.

"Sure it isn't that time of the month?" Ron suggested after swallowing his giant gulp of tea. Standing behind Hermione, he glanced at the back of Hermione's head and raised his eyebrows as if to say 'been there, dealt with that.'

"Oh, be quiet, Ronald," Hermione said with another flawless eye roll. Harry chuckled.

"No. Not that I know of," Harry said with a half-smile, answering Ron's question.

"Are you sure it's not a stomach bug or something?" Hermione questioned. Harry shrugged then shook his head. He could tell by the look on Hermione's face that her complex brain was already going through all the sickness and diseases she's ever read about and performing process of elimination.

"I mean it _could_ be just a simple virus but…it just worries me. She won't tell me anything, and you're like a sister to her. I bet she'd listen to you," he said with a small shrug. "I don't know… this is probably stupid. I probably look like some clingy fiancé worrying sick over his soon-to-be-wife." At that, Hermione let out a soft laugh.

"It's okay," she answered. "My first meeting isn't until noon today, so I'll send an owl to the office and tell them I won't be there until then. I'll go check up on Ginny and try to get her to go to see a healer. But don't get your hopes up too high, Ginny's, like, the most stubborn person I know."

"Ever look in a mirror?" Ron asked, still sipping his tea.

"I swear to God, Ronald," she said, swiveling around in her stool to face him. Ron just winked. "Go get dressed, you and Harry are already going to be late as it is, and the last time I checked, you two have a mission today. You better get there soon or else the captain is going to make you fill out all the paperwork again." Ron's wide eyes flashed toward the clock, causing him to quickly shuffle out of the kitchen and back into the bedroom.

"Thanks, Hermione. For checking on Ginny," Harry said.

"Harry you are my best friend and she is like my sister. It's nothing really," she answered. She stood from her stool and began to stack some dishes next to the seat. "Plus… eventually, you two will probably be my brother and sister by law."

Harry's lips broke out in a grin, his brows rising. "Yeah I meant to ask one of you about that… I mean you and Ron are practically living together. You both have a couple of drawers at each other's flats because you spend so many nights together."

The normally talkative Hermione had nothing to say about this topic. Instead, her cheeks began to turn pink as a ghost of a smile played on her lips.

"I don't know…" she mumbled, still leaning over the sink. Harry beamed. His two best friends getting married – there were few things in the world that would make him happier. "I mean…" she continued. "We both have demanding careers right now. For Merlin's sake, I might be getting my own department at the ministry."

"Excuses, excuses," Harry said mockingly. Hermione looked up at him, her cheeks still colored a light pink.

"You better get headed off to work. You are going to be as late as Ron at this rate," she said. Harry gave one last smile then nodded.

"I guess you're right. Thanks again, it means a lot." Then he was gone as quickly as he appeared, with a small pop.

Now that Harry had left, Hermione's face broke out in a grin so wide she felt she had to squeal in order to get all her excitement out. She had an idea about what was going on. Nausea, exhaustion, moody, and it's 'not that time of the month,' which could only mean that Ginny was late – her and Ginny were synced up on their cycles. Ginny would probably name her godmother, too. Her heart was about to explode.

Ron walked back into the kitchen, this time fully clothed. When he saw the look on Hermione's face, he froze, his eyes widening.

"What the bloody hell are you so happy about?" he asked with a laugh. She let out another small squeal.

"I can't tell you, it'd be a secret. And it's not even confirmed yet—just a hunch," she said quickly. His brows furrowed with confusion.

"Come on… I want to be that happy." He wrapped his arms around her waist, giving her the best puppy dog eyes he could muster. "Tell me."

Her grin, if it was humanly possible, spread even wider. "I think Ginny might be… _pregnant_."

" _Bloody hell_ ," he said, backing away from Hermione. "But – but… _pregnant_? My little sister is going to be a mother? Ginny can't be a parent. She's my little sister!"

Hermione chuckled. It was the same reaction he had when Harry and Ginny had gotten engaged. Actually, it was all of the Weasley boys' reactions. Hermione still remembered the day Harry showed up on her doorstep, ring in hand, his eyes filled with genuine fear. 'I am going to ask the Weasley's – all of them – for their blessing to marry Ginny,' he had said. He then proceeded to nearly throw up all over her carpet.

All of Weasley boys were free to marry and have kids, but as soon as their 'baby' sister did anything of the sort it was as if something precious of theirs was being stolen. Hermione was just thankful it was Harry doing the 'stealing', for he was someone that the Weasley's trusted. If it had been some unknown guy, Hermione could easily see him being beaten into a pulp on the Burrow doorstep.

"You can't tell anyone, okay?" Hermione said quickly.

"Wait, wait," Ron said, still trying to process the information. "How do _you_ know? Geez, why do you always know _everything?_ "

"From the symptoms he described," she said casually. "He also said it wasn't 'that time of the month.' And Ginny and I are… synced up. If she's late, well then, that's a major clue."

"So _I_ know that Ginny is pregnant before _Harry_ knows?" he asked. "And girls, er, cycles sync up? That's a thing?"

"Yes it's a thing, and remember: we don't know that's she's pregnant for sure, okay?" Hermione said quickly. "It's just a guess, remember?" He ran through his hair and mumbled, what Hermione thought sounded like, a string of cuss words.

"I can't tell Harry?" he said, looking back down at her.

"No you can't tell Harry! He'll freak out," she said. "And, besides, Ginny is the one that should tell him. I mean, if we were ever in that situation you'd want to hear it from me, not Harry… right?" At this, Ron's eyes widened and he took yet another step back.

"W-wait…" he stammered. It looked like he got hit on the back of a head with a bludger.

"For heaven's sake, Ron. I'm _not_ pregnant, and I don't plan on being for a while. I'm just trying to make a point," Hermione explained quickly before Ron had a heart attack. Ron put a hand on his chest, exhaling in relief. "Just _don't_ tell Harry, do you hear me? Or else you can expect not to spend the night over here for _months_."

"Yes ma'am," he said, feigning a soldier's salute. Yet again, Hermione executed a perfect eye roll.

"Okay. Now go to work. Oh, and you're forgetting your badge again… it's on the bedside table," Hermione said. Ron patted his chest, where his badge was normally pinned.

"Oops, thank you," Ron said quickly. "I love you." He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. "I will probably be home at seven."

"This isn't your home," she pointed out. He just smiled.

"You know what I mean," he said playfully.

"Bye, I love you. Be safe at work today," she said. Then she apparated with a pop.

When she landed in Ginny and Harry's kitchen, she immediately noticed the pancakes, if you could even call them that anymore. They were blackened to a crisp as they continued to cook over the stove.

"Oh no," Hermione muttered quickly before pulled out her wand and promptly shut off the stove – they were so burnt she could smell them. Hermione looked around the kitchen, worried why Ginny had left them in the middle of cooking. "Ginny?" Hermione called out.

There was no answer. Instead, Hermione heard water rushing through the pipes above her, a sign that a toilet had just been flushed. Harry and Ginny's house was old, not in a bad way, but in a cute old-time cottage way. However, it's age meant that it was usual for the pipes to make loud gurgling and squeaking noises. Hermione walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

"Ginny," Hermione called out again, now on the landing of the stairs. "Are you up here?"

"Hermione?" a voice came from the bathroom. Hermione walked through the master bedroom and stopped in front of the master bathroom, her brows furrowing with concern. The bathroom door opened, and Ginny stood in the doorway. Harry was not kidding when he said she was sick.

Crescent moons of dark blue exhaustion stained the bags below her eyes. Her skin was paler than normal, and her face looked, quite literally, green.

"Hermione? What are you doing here?" Ginny asked groggily, rubbing the side of her head.

"Harry's worried about you," Hermione answered. "But we can talk about that later. Did you just throw up?" Ginny sighed.

"Yes…?"

"Geez Ginny, why don't we make you some ginger-lemon tea. Ginger is supposed to help with nausea, and lemon is always a good way to make you feel less… sludgy," Hermione said, her happiness for the possible news of a baby overshadowed with concern and sympathy for Ginny. "Then we can talk."

"What's there to talk about?" Ginny asked.

"Look at you, Ginny, you look as sick as a dog." When Ginny made a confused face, Hermione knew she would have to explain. "It's a muggle expression… sick as a dog." Ginny just nodded as they made their way down the stairs.

As soon as they were in the kitchen, Hermione made Ginny sit down as she prepared the tea.

"Didn't you have to work today?" Ginny asked from the kitchen table.

"Yes, but I don't have a meeting until 12 today," she said. Hermione's stomach twisted – a familiar feeling when she realized she was forgetting something. "Speaking of which… do you have an owl I can use to send a letter to the ministry?"

"Of course," Ginny said. "He's in the living room."

Hermione nodded a thanks and hurried to send a letter. She had originally planned to say that she was going to come in at twelve, but reevaluating the situation, Hermione realized Ginny really needed some help. So, instead, she wrote that she was taking the day off due to unforeseen circumstances. She gave the letter to the owl then quickly returned to the kitchen.

"So you're here because Harry sent you?" Ginny asked when Hermione reentered the kitchen. "Did he send you an owl?"

"No," Hermione shook her head as she plopped the tea bags into the teacups. "He stopped by my house this morning on his way to work. He's really worried about you, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." Ginny sighed and rested her head on her hands. "I love him, but sometimes I want him to just… not care. Just ignore me and be a bad fiancé once in a while." Hermione laughed softly as she sat down across from Ginny, sliding a cup of tea her way.

Ginny took a sip of it, her eyes closing as she swallowed. It seemed to make her brighten up a bit. Hermione smile, glad to know she was doing something to help.

"He does have a right to be worried," Hermione pointed out.

"I know…" Ginny said weakly. "He's too good for me."

"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione laughed. "You two were made for each other." Ginny cracked a small smile, but it was nowhere near the usual 'radiating sunshine smile' – as Harry put it – that Ginny normally gave.

"So you're here to… check up on me?" Ginny asked.

"Well, yes," Hermione said. "But I have some speculations that Harry doesn't have. And I want to confirm them with you." Ginny's eyes widened at that statement, and Hermione smiled gently. "You are, aren't you?" Hermione asked softly. "You're pregnant."

Immediately, Ginny's hands fell into her hands, her shoulders rising and falling with a deep breath.

"Dammit. I had a feeling you'd figure out first," she said, her voice muffled by her hands. Hermione reached out a hand, placing it on Ginny's shoulders. "Did you tell him?" Ginny asked weakly, her voice muffled by the hands over her face. "Did you tell Harry?"

"No, of course not," Hermione said quickly. "I wouldn't take that away from you. I know that you would want to tell him." Ginny moved her hands away from her face.

"No, that's the thing," Ginny said. "I can't tell Harry. I mean, I can, but I – I can't bring myself to look him in the eye and tell him that we're going to be parents."

"Why?" Hermione asked, confused. She could only imagine Harry's reaction – he would be more than overjoyed. He would be absolutely ecstatic. "Ginny what's wrong?"

"Hermione," she said quickly. "I can't be a mother, look at me! I still have bloody eating contests with my brothers! The other day I bet George two galleon that I would be able to stand on one leg on a broom, which almost caused me to break an arm. And I have to plan a bloody wedding, which the Daily Prophet is already calling the wedding of the freaking century! Wedding of the century, can you believe that?!" Hermione could, actually. She saw the cover of the Daily Prophet when their engagement was announced.

"Ginny, calm down," Hermione said quickly, surprised at how much panic and anxiety Ginny had already worked up over this. "First of all, when did you find out?"

"I found out last night, and I called off of work today, which," she sighed, looking out the window, "is a shame because it's cloudless and warm – perfect for flying.

"Have you made an appointment with St. Mungo's?" Hermione asked. Ginny sighed, looking into her cup of tea.

"I've done literally nothing. This feels like a dream." She looked up, her eyes filled with a fresh eave of panic. "Hermione, I'm going to have a _baby_ – like, a real baby in the flesh that is going to depend on _me_ to care for it. What the hell? I mean, me?! There is a human _thing_ growing _inside of me_. It's starting to creep me out—"

"Relax," Hermione said quickly, cutting her off. "Take it one step at a time. What I'm concerned about right now is why you are so sick. Why don't we go to St. Mungo's today?"

"No."

"Ginny—"

"No, you know how I feel about hospitals. Hermione. They freak me out. What if they load me full of needles?" Ginny said, shuddering. "Or what if I'm not pregnant and this is just all one big mistake?"

"We should go," Hermione said firmly. "They will probably give you something to help with the nausea and exhaustion. They will give you some information on the baby and will be able to tell you exactly how far along you are. They will also give you some prenatal potion to make sure the baby is doing okay. And I'm pretty sure there are no needles involved. It will be quick and painless, and you will feel so much better."

Ginny looked at Hermione for a moment before sighing. "Yeah, you're right… I – I'll go," she finally said. Hermione smiled. "But you're going to be there with me, right?" Ginny asked quickly.

"Of course," Hermione answered with a smile.

...

 **A big thank you to those who have left a review. I deeply appreciate it! I plan to update in a day or two! xx**


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 _Week Five - The baby is the size of a sesame seed._

...

"My God, Hermione," Ginny said, attempting to swallow her nerves. "I think I'm going to throw up. This is happening."

"You're going to be fine," Hermione said with a crooked smile. They moved forward in the line for the reception desk. The hospital was incredibly bright, with white tile floors, light blue walls, and white ceilings. It was as if they were standing in a spotlight.

"How do you know that?" Ginny asked under her breath, looking around at all the pregnant women. She had never seen so many in one place; all were at different stages in their pregnancy.

"I know you're going to be fine because you are going to be fine. The worst that happens is that the prenatal potion tastes gross," Hermione said, looking ahead to see what was taking so long. Ginny continued to observe the people around her. A woman, whose stomach was so large it made Ginny's jaw go slack, clutched the arm of her chair as she began to breathe in short gasps.

"Herald," she called out. "Another contraction. Hurry."

"Hold on, honey, I'm getting a wheelchair for you!" a man, who must have been Herald, called out from across the room. The woman began to make this strange 'ee-ee-oh-oh' breathing noise then moaned. " _Herald_!" she screeched. "Get your _ass_ over here!" Herald then promptly ran over to her, two nurses and a wheelchair in tow. Ginny looked away.

"Do you think I'm going to be like that?" Ginny whispered jokingly. But at the same time, she felt her gut twist as the reality hit her. _Was she actually going to be like that_?

"Hm?" Hermione looked over at Ginny, not aware of the Herald situation going on across the waiting room.

"Never mind."

The person in front of them walked away from the reception desk, making the way clear for Ginny and Hermione.

"Hello, how may I help?" the small, beetle-like old lady asked. She wore glasses that must have been an inch thick, and her lips were stained in the brightest shade of pink Ginny had ever seen.

"Hi, I'm here for a, err, maternity check-up?" Ginny said slowly, the pitch in her voice rising as she was unsure of how to phrase what she needed. Normally when she was in the hospital the situation was clear, like 'help, my brother swallowed this strange potion on a dare and now he can't stop belching,' or 'help, he just got in a wizarding firework accident – yes, this is Harry Potter, no you can't have a bloody autograph, he is bleeding.'

"She should be around five weeks pregnant and is experiencing worse than normal nausea and exhaustion. This is her first maternity appointment," Hermione said, filling in the blanks that Ginny had left out.

"Wonderful," the receptionist said. She pushed the glasses up the bridge of her nose and slowly wrote some things down on a piece of paper. "Name?"

"Ginny – Ginevra, I mean – Weasley. Ginevra Weasley," she said, gladly giving out information she was actually sure about.

"Well, Ginevra, you're in luck," the old lady said. "One of our most skilled maternity healers has a spot open. She will most likely become the healer for the duration of the pregnancy, but that decision is up to you. If you are unhappy with her then you can easily request a transfer and try out another healer."

"Wonderful," Hermione said, resting her forearms on the high counter. She was so nonchalantly professional – Ginny was jealous.

"Okay the healer will be ready to see you in…" she looked down at a long piece of parchment paper, scribbled on with horrid handwriting, "in only a couple of minutes."

"Thank you," Ginny said before moving away from the counter. Her and Hermione looked around for a place to sit in the big waiting room, but Ginny's hawk-eyed vision (a large contributor to her skills as seeker) was able to quickly find two vacant chairs in the center of the waiting room.

"So, you haven't fully explained," Hermione said as they took their seats. Ginny crossed her legs and looked down at her hands in her lap.

"Explain what?" she asked. Her nausea kept coming and going, but Ginny wasn't entirely sure it was because of the pregnancy or because of the giddiness of waiting to have a maternity appointment.

"Explain why you are so freaked out about telling Harry," Hermione said, nudging Ginny's arm. "You know he is going to be so excited. He's always wanted to have children." Ginny sighed, not entirely on board with talking about the subject.

"I don't know," she said fading off. She truly wasn't entirely sure why she wouldn't tell him, but whenever she even thought about telling him, her chest got all tight and her limbs felt weak and began to tremble. So, in response, she tried not to think about it.

"You think he won't fully approve?" Hermione guessed, studying Ginny's face.

"Blimey… when did you become a therapist?" Ginny said with a small, nervous laugh. Then her smile faded as she shook her head, actually thinking about what Hermione said. "I guess I just don't know if he will be completely on board. It's like when he gets a gift from someone like Aunt Muriel, and though he is grateful that she bought it for him, you can see the auto-pilot happiness as he politely says thanks and never thinks about the gift again."

"Oh, please," Hermione said with a snort. "It's a baby, Ginny, not some weird gift that your Aunt Muriel gave him. He will be overjoyed."

"I know he will be overjoyed, but we are also happy now, as things are," she explained. "I can't completely accept the idea of our life changing, and I don't know if Harry can either. I mean, his entire life has just been one emotional roller coaster, and now it's _finally_ stable. We both have jobs we love, a cute little cottage we adore, and a wonderful quiet life – well, maybe not _too_ quiet life. And… all of that will change. Harry will want to slow down his career because he will be so keen on keeping himself safe for me and our new baby. He may even go as far as to suggest stepping away from such a dangerous job, which, I can assure you, I will strongly deny. Being an Auror is practically his dream job. Then we will also have to move out of the tiny cottage that we love. And… there will be a baby living with us. I guess I just want him to live in his peaceful bubble for as long as he can before I pop it."

"So you worry he will be disappointed," Hermione concluded. Ginny looked at Hermione, her eyes saddening.

"Yeah," she said so quietly it was almost inaudible. "I know he will be happy, but there's always that _what if_. What if he wishes that things didn't change?"

"There isn't a what if," Hermione said. "I know this because Harry welcomes change. An eventful life is what he's used to. I mean, look at his job. He goes on missions to fight criminals like he's some adventurer in a book. He will look at this as a great time for change. He will excitedly look for a new house that your family can grow in, and he will happily swap out his quiet, peaceful life for a loud messy one full of excitement and new memories."

"Well when you put it like that…"

"Ginevra Weasley?" someone called out from the front of the room. Both of their heads snapped up to the source of the voice. Ginny got up and put on a friendly smile, her heart fluttering in her chest. Hermione followed close behind.

The healer that had called her name had short raven hair and eyes that were soft with kindness. She smiled.

"Hi, Ms. Weasley, I'm Arya Cromwell, but you can call me whatever you like – Healer Cromwell, Arya, Cromwell," she said politely. Ginny noticed that she had an American accent, sparking Ginny's interest. Healer Cromwell extended her hand, and they shook hands – it was a firm handshake.

"Okay, just follow me back to the checkup room, and we can get started."

Her and Hermione followed the healer through the double doors, down a hallway, and into a spacious room with a very tall bed in the center. There was a screen on one side of the room that Ginny had never seen before, as well as an array of other medical stuff. Healer Cromwell motioned to the bed, where Ginny promptly sat down on. Hermione sat in a chair adjacent to the bed.

"So, Ms. Weasley," Healer Cromwell began, looking down at her clipboard, "I'm assuming, since you're here, you are pregnant."

"Yes. Well, the test I took this morning came out positive."

"Have you been experiencing any symptoms?" the Healer asked.

"I actually have really, really bad nausea and exhaustion," Ginny said. "Worse than most of my sister in laws did. I can function fine; it just comes in waves, so I have to take a break every now and then."

"Okay… well, morning sickness peaks around ten to twelve weeks, so the fact that you are this sick this early on is a little bit worrisome." Ginny's stomach twisted – _worrisome_? Seeing Ginny's face, the healer gave a reassuring smile. "For now, let's not worry about it too much. The worst thing you can do is worry, okay? We will give you some compact potions that you can take to calm the symptoms. Compact potions are little tablets that you can just pop in some water, and it'll bubble into a potion. It tastes a little weird, but nothing too bad. I helped to create it."

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed. "I was looking into some potions that you can add lovelace powder to, causing it to dry. Did you use that method or did you make it with dry ingredients and compress it?" Hermione asked, suddenly transforming into the curious straight 'A' student who needed to know all the (not-so-fun) fun trivia.

Healer Cromwell perked up, amazed that Hermione was interested. "I used dry ingredients. I actually went to school in Ilvermorny, and my potions professor was incredibly interested in experimenting with dry potions, so I got to experimenting with them, and I've been trying to come up with new ones ever since. When I came to St. Mungo's I began experimenting with their common medical potions, trying to recreate them with dry ingredients."

Ah, Ilvermorny, Ginny thought. It explained the American accent. She leaned back and crossed her legs on the bed, knowing that this could be a while.

Hermione talked about some muggle ingredients that she was thinking about adding to some potions in order to dehydrate them. Healer Cromwell listened intently then explained how she was looking into introducing some muggle pharmaceuticals to the wizarding world of potions.

It was halfway through the muggle pharmaceutical conversation when Ginny let out an audible sigh.

"Sorry, I got carried away," Healer Cromwell said with a grin, looking bad towards Ginny. "So, since this is your first appointment, it will be pretty simple. I'm going to take a small vile of blood, so we can check to make sure everything is healthy with you. Then we will schedule an appointment for three weeks from now, when the baby's heartbeat is audible through amplification. Which reminds me, do not try amplification spells, charms, or anything of the sort on your stomach with the intention of hearing the baby's heartbeat. You will not find a heartbeat; up until about the ninth week, the baby's heart is simply not strong enough to emit a sound. And there have been many times when panicked parents come in, thinking they have lost the baby, when in reality the baby's heart just isn't loud enough yet."

Ginny listened intently, nodding in response to Healer Cromwell. Then, almost instinctively, Ginny's hand moved over her stomach, resting there. It was finally beginning to sink in – she was going to have a baby. There was a life growing inside of her. She was going to be a mother.

"I will give you dry potion tablets to help calm the pregnancy symptoms. Like I said, just drop one tablet in a glass of water and stir. You should take it on an empty stomach. I normally suggest taking it in the morning before breakfast. I'm also going to give you a prenatal potion. That one, however, is not in tablet form, and you need to take about a teaspoon a day – not much. Take that potion after you've eaten or else it may give you a stomach ache. Then, finally, I am going to get you some books for you to start learning what you will be going through in the next nine months!" Healer Cromwell finished, clapping her hands together with finality.

Ginny was terrified of messing anything up and was more grateful than ever that Hermione was there to remember it all.

"Okay, sounds good," Ginny said with a half-smile.

"Bloody hell…" Ginny whispered as soon as she landed in the kitchen. A bandage stuck uncomfortably to her arm, where the Healer had drawn blood, and a bunch of books pressed under her arm. She looked up at the clock – 10:12 a.m. They had been at St. Mungo's for nearly two hours.

"What?" Hermione asked, her voice ringing with excitement. She held the sealed plastic bag that contained the potions. "I thought the appointment was fun."

"You didn't get your arm stabbed," Ginny said. She dropped the books on to the counter and fell into a nearby chair. "Healer Cromwell said a small vile of blood – was more like three quarts."

"Oh please," Hermione laughed. "It wasn't that bad… but you should have some juice. I was surprised they didn't give you any. Are you feeling faint at all?"

"Just a bit dizzy. Nothing too bad," Ginny said. Hermione fetched a jug of orange juice and a glass with her wand. She had just began to pour the orange juice when she abruptly looked up, her face buzzing with excitement.

"No, you have to take your potion first!" Hermione said. "Healer Cromwell said to take it on an empty stomach."

"Why are you so excited about me taking a potion?"

"Because I'm just… excited. I don't know. I'm kind of curious to see the dry potion in action."

Ginny sighed, but a smile began to tug up at the corners of her mouth. "You're something else, Hermione."

"Whatever, just come here and take the stupid potion. It will make you feel better," Hermione said, crossing her arms.

"Yeah, yeah, okay."

Hermione eagerly ripped open the plastic bag with the potions, looking almost like a child on Christmas morning. After she had filled a cup with water, Hermione opened the small bottle.

"Ready?" Hermione whispered, leaning over the cup.

"Bloody hell, Hermione. It's not going to shoot out rainbows and glitter. You'll be lucky if there's a bit of fizz."

When the tablet hit the water, Hermione gasped. "Woah, look."

Curious, Ginny leaned over the cup. Her nose scrunched up, her stomach churning with disgust. The water was gradually becoming thick, changing from ochre yellow to sickening brown to black. She had to drink _that_? Ginny shuddered.

"Oh no," Ginny said, backing away from the potion. Hermione began to laugh, clutching her stomach; this was clearly the funniest thing in the world to her. Ginny just scowled.

"Healer Cromwell said it didn't taste that bad," Hermione said, attempting to make light of the situation.

"Doesn't change the fact that it looks like a mixture of piss and tar," Ginny said, eyeing the potion carefully. Hermione laughed again.

"You do know what this all means though, right?" Hermione said, her eyebrow rising. "You are going to have to tell Harry. There's no way you're going to be able to take all these potions in secret."

Ginny rubbed her eyes, letting out a low groan. _He'll be happy. He'll be happy._ She repeated the mantra in her head, trying to give herself some sort of confidence.

"And he's going to see the bandage on your arm. He's going to want to know why you got blood drawn," she continued. Hermione was silent for a moment, observing Ginny's face. "It'll go great… it will probably go smoother than taking this potion." Ginny gave a half smile.

"Let's just hope that it's just the appearance. Maybe it tastes like pumpkin pastries or raspberry Fizz Whizz sherbet," Ginny said.

"Only one way to find out."

"I mean… it can't be as bad as taking a bunch of those disgusting jello shots George made that one time."

"You're stalling," Hermione said. She picked up the cup and handed it to Ginny. Ginny looked down into the cup and swirled the concoction around, watching the way it clung to the sides of the cup. After a quick breath, she cocked her head back and swallowed it in no more than two gulps – there's a reason she won most of the Weasley drinking competitions.

It didn't taste as bad it looked, though it could've tasted much better. However, the texture was what caused Ginny to gag. Thick and chunky, she squeezed her eyes as it slid down her throat.

Only nine months to go.

...

 **Thanks again for all the reviews. You all are so kind xx**

 **Hopefully Harry will find out next chapter? :)**


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Bloody hell," Ron said, staring at Harry over the piles of paperwork on his desk. "You know, this job has far too much hype. _'Adventures, missions, saving the world_.' It's truly no more than what we did at Hogwarts, except we have to fill out paperwork afterward."

"Come on, you would enjoy being an auror no matter how much paperwork you have to fill out," Harry said, hunched over his own pile of parchment. Their desks were facing each other in the little maze of offices, and they were close enough to have a normal conversation without raising their voices. Harry was grateful for it, especially during late nights at the office when they were both bored out of their minds.

Ron shrugged, dipping his pen into some more ink. "I don't know," he began slowly. "We've both thought of me maybe slowing down once we have children. Not as many missions – I'm okay with it."

"We?" Harry asked, looking up abruptly. One of his eyebrows arched as his mouth spread into a smirk. "You mean you and Hermione."

Ron's ears began to turn a light shade of pink. Harry knew that's what he meant. Harry knew they were going to get married – everybody knew – but nobody knew when one of them would actually act on it. Yet, for some reason unbeknownst to Harry, they were shy when they talked about it like it was still the beginning of their relationship.

"I – well," Ron stammered. "I guess. I mean…" He faded off, giving a dismissive shake of his head.

"What?" Harry asked, curious.

"I'm planning… _it_ ," he whispered so quietly it was hardly audible.

"What?"

Ron was still looking over the parchment spread across his desk, obviously trying to step away from the topic. This didn't work, however, because Harry was now completely invested in the conversation.

"What?!" Harry asked quickly. "Ron!"

"What?" he looked up, looking at Harry from across the room. Ron was nonchalant, but Harry's lips were breaking out into a grin.

"You're planning what?" Harry asked.

"I – I'm planning on asking her to marry me soon… I, um, I've been planning it for a couple of months, actually," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. At this, Harry shot up from his chair and rushed over to Ron's desk. He sat down in the chair across from Ron, leaning forward in his seat as he anxiously waited for Ron to explain in more detail.

"Well…" Harry said with a laugh. "Get on with it! How're going to ask her?"

"Bloody hell, Harry. You're like my mother. Relax, will you?" he said quickly, his voice somewhat shaky.

" _Ron_ ," Harry began breathlessly. "You and Hermione are my best friends, and you're asking her to marry you. This is big news. Do you not realize the significance of this event?"

"I know how bloody big of an event it is, but every time I think of it I – I get all dizzy, and my palms get clammy," he said. "So I'm trying to make it seem like no big deal because I really don't want to mess it up. I love her so much. I want it to be perfect."

"Well, what's the plan?" Harry asked.

"I've already asked her father for his blessing—"

"Did he give his blessing?" Harry questioned.

"Yes he gave me his blessing!" Ron said, looking defensive. "He was quite excited, actually. So was his mother."

"Okay, so you've gotten her father's blessing… do you have the ring?" Harry asked.

"I had it made. I just got it back from the jeweler last week. He's had it since March."

"You had it made?" Harry asked curiously. "What do you mean?"

"The deluminator that Dumbledore gave me, do you remember it?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, of course. It stopped working after the war, didn't it?"

"Yeah, it's broken now, but when I was sitting in the pub on _that_ Christmas morning… that's when I figured it all out. That little ball of light that came from the deluminator was the final deciding factor for me – I wanted Hermione to be in my life for the rest of my life. I wanted to spend the rest of my days with her near. That deluminator helped me find my way back to her. So, I took it to a couple of jewelers and antique shops and was told it was made out of wizarding silver – some of the world's finest. I didn't really know what to do, Harry. I mean, technically, it was mine, but I didn't want to ruin it—"

"You were going to make the band of the ring out of the silver from the deluminator. That's bloody brilliant, Ron. Did you do it?" Harry asked.

"I – yeah. It wasn't doing me any good sitting broken and useless in my desk drawer. I tried to fix it, and I took it to some shops, but no one could figure it out. So, I figured, why not?

"The jeweler kept most of the deluminator's casing intact, but he cut away enough wizarding silver to make the band of the ring. Then I picked out a round-cut diamond to be encrusted in the band. Nothing too big or fancy – I know Hermione wouldn't want that. I got it back and now it's locked away in the corner of my broom shed."

Harry stared wide-eyed, his heart overflowing with happiness. "Well, when are you going to ask her!" he asked. Ron's cheeks were still tinged pink.

"When she least expects it," he said with a shrug. "Soon, though. I – I just want to show her that I'm mature and responsible. Well, certainly not as mature as her, but responsible enough to be a good husband."

"Congratulations, mate. I'm so happy for you two." Harry said playfully punching Ron's shoulder. "Merlin, all of our lives are changing so fast." This comment clearly sparked Ron's memory, for Harry saw Ron's face change. It twisted like he knew something that he couldn't tell Harry.

"Something wrong, Ron?"

"No, I'm just… you're right. All of our lives are changing so fast," he said with a nod, but he sounded somewhat distant. "Hey, mate, maybe you should go home a bit early. Ginny's probably still sick, and I'm tired of you gawking over me and Hermione."

Harry laughed and rolled his eyes. "I'm not gawking over you and Hermione. I'm just… very excited. But, yeah, you're probably right. I need to get home to Ginny." Harry stood up and walked back to his desk. He collected his things, pushed up his glasses one more time then looked at the paperwork on Ron's desk, his brow furrowing.

"You sure I shouldn't stay and work with you? I, mean, this is a lot of paperwork," he said.

"No, no," Ron said, giving a dismissive shake of his head and looking back down at the stacks of parchment. "I'm fine – I'll probably be leaving soon anyway."

"Okay. And, Ron?" he asked. Ron looked up. "Don't be too nervous about asking Hermione. She loves you." Ron's ears seemed to glow again.

"Thanks."

Then Harry was gone with a pop.

Outside, the bright blue sky was beginning to turn into a fading gradient of blue and pink. She glanced at the clock – 6:23 p.m. The days were beginning to get longer - summer was just around the corner. Ginny sat at the kitchen counter, drinking her third cup of ginger tea since Hermione's visit that morning. Hermione was right - it did help. Between the tea and the potions she had only felt nauseous once, when she stood up too fast after a nap. It was just as she was swallowing the last sip of tea when she heard the small 'pop' of Harry's arrival.

"Hello, love," Harry said, now standing in the kitchen. Ginny smiled a crooked smile and leaned across the table to greet him with a kiss. "Are you feeling okay? I went to talk to Hermione when she got back to the office, but she wasn't there for her 12 o'clock meeting. Did she stay longer? Did you go to St. Mungo's?"

"I am feeling better, yes. The healer gave me a potion to help my nausea and headache."

"See—"

"Harry Potter, if you so much as utter one 'I-told-you-so' I will bat bogey you so hard…" She said, squaring her shoulders. He laughed. Though her heart was pounding with fear and excitement of the announcement to come, Ginny could feel a bit of a smile begin to play around the corners of her mouth.

"Fine, I won't say 'I-told-you-so' but… what did I tell you?" She hit him on the shoulder; he simply grinned.

"Truly, though, I'm so glad you're feeling better," he said with a truly happy smile. "What was causing it? Were you sick?" Harry began to loosen his tie and slipped off his shoes, which he quickly charmed to walk to their place in the shoe rack. Her stomach twisted.

"I'll tell you over dinner, I'm starving," she said, trying more than anything to seem casual. She had always been a truly terrible liar – especially to Harry.

"Do you want me to make something for dinner?" Harry asked. "Or do you want the leftover lasagna in the fridge?"

"Well, considering we're both awful cooks, I stopped in Diagon Alley and got some takeout," she said, motioning to a large brown paper bag on the counter. Harry smiled, grateful.

"Yum," he said. They quickly set the table, both of them automatically doing their parts – Harry setting the plates and silverware, Ginny setting up the food and drinks. Harry sat in his chair – a square seated chair with chipping red paint and a brown cushion. Ginny sat in hers – near the window with a round yellow and green cushion (after the Hollyhead Harpies, of course).

It was their ritual. They fit together, in every part of their life. Simple things – Harry's toothbrush always went on the right, Ginny's on the left; Harry always took a shower first, for he liked steaming hot water, and Ginny showered second because, for some reason, Ginny had always liked showering in water that was just a touch on the colder side; Harry always slept on the left side of the bed because he liked being near the door, Ginny on the right because she liked being near the window. They just fit.

"So," Harry said as he sat down, a grin beginning to spread across his face. "I have big news." Ginny's brow raised with curiosity, she figured tonight was the night for big news.

"Well, go on…"

"Ron is _finally_ going to ask Hermione to marry him!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, merlin! When?" she asked quickly, all worries about her situation wiped away by the announcement.

"I don't know, but he picked out the ring."

"Did you see it?"

"No," Harry said with a quick shake of his head. "But he told me about it. He's been planning it for months! He made the band of the ring out of wizarding silver from the deluminator then picked out a diamond for it. Must've cost a fortune to make."

"He had the ring _made_?" she asked, a bit in shock. "We're talking about the same Ron, right? I thought he'd just pick out one in the jewelry shop in Diagon Alley then chicken out and let it sit in his sock drawer for a couple of months."

"Nope, Ron's really trying to prove himself. I'm not sure what for, though. Hermione loves him so much, he could propose to her with a plastic ring and she'd be overjoyed," he said. "But now there will be two weddings to plan," Harry added with a sigh of both happiness and anxiety. "So much to do."

Ginny saw the opening, the small break in conversation where she could slip in the announcement. He was already over the moon with the news of Ron and Hermione. But she couldn't think of the right words to say – she had been rehearsing all day. Did she go with something bland, like 'you're going to be a dad,' or 'I'm pregnant.' Or did she go with something more subtle like 'father's day will be coming up,' or 'we'll have to get a bigger house soon, with more than one bedroom'?

Her stomach suddenly seemed like it couldn't hold the soup she had just swallowed. Her palms began to get clammy, and she wiped them on her pants. _Calm down, Ginny, relax_ she mentally screamed at herself.

"Two weddings to plan," she said with a very poorly faked sigh of happiness. Harry instantly noticed the change in Ginny's demeanor.

"You okay?" Harry asked, his smile fading. A shadow of worry crossed his face; he sat up in his chair, very attentive.

"I'm – yes," she said, smiling weakly. "We are going to have to actually start planning our wedding," she said so quietly that she knew Harry couldn't hear her.

"What?" he asked. "Sorry, couldn't hear you."

"I – I said that we are going to have to actually start to plan our wedding," Ginny said.

"I know. We've had to for months," Harry commented. "Is that what you're worried about? I'll plan it all if you want. I'll pick out the flowers, tablecloths, and all the other little details. It's fine"

"No," she said, shaking her head. _Come on._ "I – I mean… in nine months we're going to be parents. And I want the wedding to be over and done with by then."

"Okay, yeah, we can—" he stopped mid-sentence, suddenly realizing what she said. It looked as though someone hit him with a stupefy spell. He just stared ahead, looking at her with wide eyes and slightly ajar mouth. All the crippling anxiety that had been building up inside of her needed a way to escape and tears began to form in her eyes. She violently wiped them away, willing herself not to cry. She wasn't going to be all mushy and emotional, but she could see him replaying the words in his mind, and there was nothing. No smile, no happiness, he just closed his mouth.

 _This was it_ , she thought. Harry didn't want it. He didn't want this. Her worst fear, what would have been her boggart, was now being fabricated into reality.

His jaw clenched, his brows rising and his eyes widening. There was so much tension in his face, yet it was impossible for Ginny to tell what he was thinking. Her fingers started to tremble. "You're… I – I'm – say that again?"

"I'm pregnant."

"You're – you're pregnant? I'm going to be a father? We're going to be parents?" he asked quietly. A small laugh fluttered from his lips – a giddy laugh that was filled with nerves and shock. But, slowly, his shock seemed to wear off, and a smile, a smile that could single-handedly destroy all of the existing dementors in the world, spread across his face. "Ginny. This is—"

He didn't finish. Instead, he seemed to leap from his chair, and, before she was sure of what was happening, she was on her feet and his lips were crashing into hers. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer.

"This is – I – I'm so _happy_. This is marvelous. It's fantastic. A bit of a shock but - but still absolutely amazing," he said. For the first time in days she could finally breathe again. "A _father_ , Ginny. I'm going to be a _father_."

"Yeah," she breathed. Her smile was so wide it began to hurt her cheeks. That's when she noticed the tears in Harry's eyes, beginning to drip down his cheeks. Almost instinctively, she reached out to wipe them away. "You're crying," she said quietly.

Harry's smile faltered for a brief moment as he reached up to wipe his eyes. His mouth opened then closed, his words seemingly getting caught in his throat.

"We're going to be a family – a little family of three," he finally whispered. He closed his eyes, his arms still wrapped around Ginny. " _I'm finally going to have a family._ "

 **So Harry knows... what's next? P.S. Has anyone read the new Harry Potter book yet? It's a wild ride lol.**


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